


Memories in Red and White

by inamac



Series: Fae Universe [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Animal Death, Hunting, Incest, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-01
Updated: 2008-04-01
Packaged: 2017-10-18 06:23:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inamac/pseuds/inamac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Malfoy family share a night together before Voldemort returns to Malfoy Manor.  Draco remembers how he won his wand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories in Red and White

Lucius Malfoy wore only scars, and tattoos, and the pale glory of his hair to bed. Save on nights when danger threatened, then for comfort and security, he slept also with the things he valued most in the world. Narcissa was there now, as she had been every night that the Dark Lord spent in this house, curled against her husband's right side, a possessive arm flung across his chest.

Draco paused in the doorway. He knew that his parents were not asleep. They must have felt the disturbance of the wards when he had opened the door to their chambers, but they were gifting him this moment to watch them, unguarded, together. He stepped carefully across the room, and looked down at his father. The skull and snake of the Dark Mark on the arm that lay above the bedclothes was obscured by shadow. The silver silk of his hair splashed across the wine-red pillow like white ink.

He knew what lay beneath the covers, the matching small circular scarlet brands that each wore over their hearts, the pale scar beneath his father's ribs. Malfoy flesh marked in ink and fire and blood.

The day his father had received that scar was seared on his memory. A unicorn's horn, like phoenix tears, will cure any infection, neutralise any poison, heal any injury, at a touch; except a wound caused by the horn itself.

 _It had been a long run before the bone-white hounds had brought their quarry to bay in a clearing in the woods. The huntsmen had drawn rein and formed a confining circle under the dripping trees. The Master, having sounded the ayde dropped his horn and beckoned imperiously to the youngest in the party._

 _Thus summoned, Draco dismounted. He knew what he had to do, approach the animal, take its head in his lap, and hold it docile while the hunters made their kill. It had sounded so simple when his father had explained it. Now, seeing the arch of the stallion's crest, the power of the muscles that stamped a cloven hoof onto the hard earth, the wicked length of the sharp spiralled horn, he had to quell the fluttering in his stomach. He tossed the pony's rein to his mother and stepped forward into the clearing._

 _The unicorn had looked at him then, eyes huge with fear, nostrils wide to catch his scent. He had waited, knowing that when it was satisfied he could move forward to gentle the beast. His father had prepared him for this moment almost since his birth._

 _And then everything had gone wrong. He had waited for too long, and Macnair had impatiently spurred his horse into the clearing, snarling an insult to Lucius about a lie, about purity. The unicorn's attention had been diverted, divided. The creature had charged - and his father had been there, taking the horn in his side, clamping his hand on the animal's mane to hold it immobile as he calmly ordered his son to cut the beast's throat._

He remembered that moment in red and white: the pale fall of his father's hair mingling with the silver of the unicorn's mane, the white of the snow-covered trees, the ivory hilt of his hunting knife, and the red of the huntsmen's coats, of his father's blood and that of the unicorn dripping on the frosty ground as he drew the silver blade across its windpipe. Tears had obscured his vision then, but now he recalled the moment with absolute, pensieve-sharp clarity.

If it had not been for Fae magic, for the unique singing-charm that could knit flesh and heal bone, his father would have died that day.

They had awarded him the horn and the tail for his kill. The tail hair had been bound into his wand, to the length of hawthorn that his parents had planted to celebrate his birth. And the horn - one portion, sliced and bound in white gold, now constricted the base of his cock, a second length polished and slicked with lubricant nestled inside him, sliding its ridged ivory length against his prostate as he moved.

He reached out to draw the cover down, but before his fingers could touch the silk his wrist was grasped and he found himself looking down into grey eyes cold as the remembered snow.

"Have you forgotten your manners?" His father's voice was a whisper, steel hard, then tempered with a wry smile. "Ask, Little Dragon."

He swallowed. "Can I... share with you... both?"

Lucius nodded assent, but it was Narcissa who threw off the sheet and moved to make space for him to lie between them.

He shed his night robe and kicked off his felt slippers before crawling from the foot of the bed into the nest made ready for him.

His mother greeted him with a kiss to his brow, chaste and maternal, before she moved her free hand into his hair and claimed his mouth in a kiss that was neither chaste nor maternal. He felt his father run a broad, firm hand down his back, blunt fingers sliding between his buttocks and probing gently to feel the plug.

"Good boy," he whispered, two words only but his father's approval flooded his senses like wine, a rare vintage of which could never get enough. Draco squirmed with pleasure, partly from the touch and partly from the praise. The hand slid over the hollow and arch of his hip and down to his crotch to feel for the cock ring. "Oh very good boy."

Draco opened his mouth to his mother's tongue and arched into his father's hand. The constriction was necessary, he knew that. Malfoy seed was not to be squandered recklessly. But - oh - the flick of Lucius' thumb over his leaking slit, the pull and release of his foreskin sliding up the shaft, the pressure - just so - made him shiver with pent desire for release.

Narcissa felt the tension in her kiss and drew back, turned aside and buried her hand in Lucius' hair, pulling him close to admonish him.

"Slowly, my loves. We have all night."

Her husband grunted, released Draco and claimed Narcissa's mouth in return. Trapped in their embrace Draco found his lips close to his mother's nipple, licked, and latched on, concentrating on tonguing the nub of flesh to arousal to distract himself from the ache of his own. All night. It would give him time for - everything.

He had been taught how to please a woman. In this bed, with this woman. He slid down her body, still licking, feeling the change in her breathing through his tongue, the flutter of her stomach as he dipped into her navel, and the press of his father's arousal against his spine as he moved.

Slowly, she had said, though it was hard to go slowly with his parent's increasingly urgent movements around and above him. He reached Narcissa's clit, lapped at the hood, put his thumbs on either side to push it back to reveal the red, glistening bud and bent to tease it first with the tip of his tongue and then with a scrape of teeth that made her arch and gasp.

He looked up then, past the swell of his mother's breasts, past the dark-flushed cock-hard nipples, the parted red lips, the tumbled wheaten curls and up into the mirrored canopy where his eyes met his father's reflected ones... and locked.

Narcissa said something. Neither man heard it. Lucius released his wife and brought his knee up slowly between Draco's thighs to press hard against his balls. "Me," he mouthed into the mirror. His son needed no more instruction. With a final long lick with the flat of his tongue from Narcissa's anus to clit that made her moan wantonly, he rolled over and fastened his moistened lips over the head of his father's cock.

Still mindful of his mother's admonition Draco worked slowly, sucking the head, using his fingers to tease and hold the base, his tongue to explore the slit and the contrasting textures of foreskin, glans and vein. Then Lucius began to thrust insistently and Draco had no choice but to open his throat and swallow the full, hard length. The sensation brought tears to his eyes and he felt his mother's long-nailed fingers curl around his own cock as his father withdrew, unspent, pulled him up into a hard embrace and a harsh "Well done," before he was rolled aside and Lucius plunged into his waiting wife with a growl of possession.

Bereft, Draco put his frustration aside for a moment for the sheer pleasure of watching his parents coupling.

They had never hidden the intensity of their passion from him. Although he had only been permitted to share it since his sixteenth birthday, he had watched them together for as long as he could remember; from tender kisses shared at his bedside before he was tucked in for the night when he was five, to passionate lovemaking in the conservatory at the height of last year's summer storm, shadowed by orchids and bougainvillea while rain streamed down the glass outside.

Now he felt every movement through the mattress and the creak of the bed frame. Watched Narcissa's long, pale legs drawn up, painted toenails braced and curled into the sheets on either side of her husband's thighs, her hands clawed around his biceps as he braced his arms to keep his weight off her. Watched the long, tanned back arch and straighten as Lucius set a fractured rhythm until, at last, he gasped, open-mouthed, as her final gyration drew orgasm from him. He drove up into her, fingers leaving bruises on her white arms, dilated black pupils ringed with silver like eclipsed twin moons.

The last thing Draco saw, before he closed his eyes in reaction, was the sight of his father's hair whipping back in a flat arc as Lucius flung his head back in ecstasy before bending again to let it fall like rain over his back and shoulders, cloaking them both in white silk. Were he not prevented, Draco would have come too, at that moment. As it was, he gave his own cry, half applause, half frustration, and ground his hips down into the bed.

"Draco?"

He opened his eyes to meet those of his mother, concerned and amused.

"I think we left you behind a bit, didn't we, darling?"

He swallowed and nodded, glancing across to where Lucius lay, eyes closed, flat on his back, one arm crooked behind his head, the other on his stomach, fingertips brushing the damp hair at the base of his now flaccid cock. He looked utterly spent but, as if he had felt his son's gaze, he turned his head, cracked open one eye and gave a wicked grin.

"All night," he echoed Narcissa's promise, as she bent to run the tip of her tongue around the rim of their son's ear, and down the line of his jaw, mirror-image of his father's, to claim his mouth.

This was not the loving kiss of a mother. Narcissa's teeth bit down on his lower lip, tugging the flesh to flushed aroused plumpness. The tongue that invaded his mouth demanded not response but submission. With a sigh Draco gave it, submerging himself in sensation.

True to her promise, Narcissa was slow but thorough, using her fingers and mouth to explore every inch of her son's body, soothing and arousing by turns. After a while he felt other lips tasting him, larger, firmer hands on his buttocks and thighs, making him writhe with need. He shivered as his father's fingers traced the length of his spine, pressed into the dimples above his coccyx and down his tailbone before taking the ring of the unicorn-horn plug and twisting the ridged spiral as he slowly withdrew it.

Draco sobbed at the loss, feeling his hole flutter in protest. And then Lucius leaned over his son, the tips of his hair brushing against the boy's throat, then gliding down and across his chest, tickling deliberately at the line of the _sectumsempera_ scar. Draco reached up, curling his hand around his father's ribs, pressing against the broader strip of white flesh that marked the place where the unicorn's horn had ripped into it. Lucius hummed at the touch, the cadences of the Fae spell that, in different circumstances, had healed both their wounds, before his delicate journey ended at his son's crotch and he bent to replace the touch of his hair with that of his lips on the head of the boy's penis.

It was too much. Draco reached up and grasped the bed-head with both hands, in a desperate attempt to stop himself grabbing his father's hair and forcing that mouth down the full length of his cock until teeth scraped the horn ring.

Lucius withdrew, briefly, recognising his son's desperation. "Yesss," he hissed, and "Cissa..."

Thus commanded, his wife lifted her wand from the bedside table and placed the tip between her legs, drawing her juices from between the folds of her labia like memories from a pensieve before swirling them into her hand and reaching out to slick her husband's penis.

"More," he growled, hardening as her thumb drew back his foreskin to rub the slit and mingle her juices with his pre-cum.

And "More!" Draco whimpered in echo, pressing his cinched cock into the back of her working hand.

"Soon," Narcissa whispered to her son, thrusting her tongue into his mouth as her spouse thrust into her hand.

Lucius growled again and moved his hand from Narcissa's breast to press the heel against her mound and slip one, then two, fingers into her streaming cunt. She arched under him, nipples hard as hazelnuts, and bore down, pulsing muscles drawing him deeper, demanding orgasm.

"Soon." He echoed her promise against her lips, slipping his tongue between them as he withdrew his slicked fingers and pressed them slowly, crossed and corkscrewed, into their son.

Draco moaned, torn between the ecstasy the touch sparked from his prostate and the too-long denied fulfillment. And then he felt his mother's long fingers circle him. pulling the pin that secured the two halves of the horn cock ring so that it fell away, to be replaced by her lips and a working tongue that drew all his pent seed down her throat even as his father's flooded into him.

o0o

Sunrise flooded the eastern sky with blood, casting diamonds of pink luminescence through the leaded panes of the bedchamber window to run black shadows down the even pleats of Lucius's dark red robe as he stood pensively turning the unicorn horn ring in his blunt fingers.

The sound of running water from the en suite bathroom ceased and Narcissa emerged, coiling her hair into a knot which she secured with a casual charm. She was wearing a thin white linen shift that flushed to pink as she joined her husband at the window.

"Today, then?" she asked, resting a slender hand over his to still its movement.

He nodded. "It has to be today. While He is out of the house. This may be our only chance."

They both turned to look down at their son, still sleeping exhausted, naked and vulnerable in the centre of the dishevelled bed.

"He is strong enough, Lucius," she said. "I'll wake him."

But her husband shook his head, crossed the room to set the ring down on the bedside table, and bent to lift the boy into his arms. He turned, the white fall of his son's hair mingling with his own, bright against the blood red robe.

"Come," he said. "It is time to prove the power of a family's love."

Fin

**Author's Note:**

> Footnotes:
> 
> ayde: The medieval hunting horn tune played to indicate to the huntsmen that the beast has been brought to bay (I used the more familiar Prise which indicates the kill - in Wild Hunt)
> 
> Fae healing charm: The 'sung' charm that Snape uses to heal Draco's cuts in HBP is the only one of its kind in canon - and does not seem to be regarded as a common spell, even by the St Mungo's Healers. I've taken the liberty of assuming it to be of Fae origin. There will undoubtedly be a separate story explaining how a half-blood like Snape came by the spell. It might even involve Lucius...


End file.
